Captured Moments
by Kuko-chan
Summary: Oneshot. They say the best gifts come straight from the heart. Ron doubts that sorely. He's trying to make the perfect gift for Hermione, and can't help but question his own self worth. Post HBP. Ron's POV.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, anything within the Harry Potter universe, and I am certainly not J.K. Rowling. If I was, why the devil would I be writing fanfiction for my own story?

Captured Moments

By Kuko

My mother used to tell me that the best gifts came straight from the heart. I used to think that was her excuse for being cheap year after year with her maroon jumpers. But now I've come to realise how true she really was.

"C'mon now, Ronnie, tuck in! That's a good boy! I didn't make all these sweets for nothing, you know." I rolled my eyes. Presented for my approval was a table full of homemade cookies, marshmallow squares, ginger snaps, treacle tarts, and candied apples. My mother has a tendency to over-do it sometimes.

We were taking a break for the Christmas holidays from our search for the Horcruxes and my mother was insistent that we stay at the Burrow for a couple weeks. I thought it sounded like a good idea at the time, a chance to relax and sleep in beds instead of sleeping bags on cold hard cave floors. That was until we arrived and mum began fretting over me like a mother hen. Still, it was nice being warm and loved again.

"Are you getting enough to eat these days, Ronnie? You look pale!" mum fretted.

"Mum, I'm fine," I replied automatically, swatting her inquisitive hand away. "It's just that we spend much of our days in caves and nights travelling."

"Well that's not healthy at all! You need your vitamin C from the sun, otherwise you'll just shrivel up and die!" I snorted at this idea. A mental picture entered my head of myself looking a lot like a raisin, crawling around on the ground.

Just as mum was about invade my privacy bubble again, Hermione and Harry walked in, slightly sooty from de-gnoming the garden, and mum turned her attention onto them, imploring them to eat her tasty treats. Once everyone's attention was drawn to the table of goodies, I used this opportunity to retreat to my room, where a secret project was lying in wait.

Lying on my bed was a dark green book. I opened it up to the second last page, which was empty except for a black-outlined rectangle. Grinning, I got to work on it.

It was a long and tedious project, but it was nearing completion now. As I added the last two triangle photo-holders into place, there was a light knock on the door.

"Who is it?" I called through the door.

"It's Harry."

"Come in," I replied before waving my wand to place the last photo in my project in its respective spot. Harry opened the door slowly, looking around my room.

"Feels weird to be in here again…" he murmured. "It feels like ages since I've seen your bright orange walls." I grinned at that. Mum hadn't changed my room since I had left four months ago.

Harry turned his attention onto me. "Still working on that?"

"Just putting the final touches on, is all," I replied, flipping through the pages of the thick book in my lap.

I closed it carefully, performed a few simple charms to prevent it from wearing down, then turned to the cover and tapped it twice with my wand, saying, "_Inscribo_." The words 'Brightest Witch of Our Age: Hermione Granger' appeared on the front in metallic red. In the bottom corner, in almost fine print, it said 'A Biography by Ronald Weasley'.

I smiled proudly at my masterpiece. For the last eight months, I had been preparing a gift for Hermione. It was a photo album full of pictures of her dating back from when she was first born to the current day. It had taken a lot of work, getting donation photos from her parents (that one time during the summer when we stay at her place, I asked them for any childhood pictures for this album), from fellow Gryffindors (I would have gotten a few from Lavender, but considering the subject matter, I think it would have only served to upset her), from Colin Creevey (was there ever a time when he _didn't_ have his camera, I thank Merlin he managed to get many good shots of Hermione), and from anyone else who knew her and had photos. I included captions for almost all the pictures and a small timeline of events. For the Muggle photos, I enchanted them so they'd move like a normal photo, and let me tell you, that was long, boring, tedious work. But I think it'll be worth it in the end when Hermione sees this all.

"It's done," I said with a smile, showing Harry the heavy book. "Want to flip through it, make sure I didn't miss anything?" Harry nodded and took the book from my hands. I looked on, nervous and anxious for approval. After a few seconds of silence, a wide grin broke out on Harry's face.

"It's brilliant!" he exclaimed. "Wrap it up, quickly before Hermione sees it!" I nodded stupidly, suddenly apprehensive that she'd walk in any minute and see her surprise before it was ready. I grabbed a large gold cloth from my bag and wrapped it around the photo album, making a little bow on the top.

"So did mum mention if anything was planned for today?" I asked, sliding the book under my bed for now.

"She said we can do whatever until 4-o'clock tea and eggnog, then supper at 6, and presents at 8."

"That's good. Gives me plenty of time to work up the courage to actually give Hermione her gift." I paused, contemplating the worth of the book. "What if she doesn't like it? What if she thinks I'm…"

"Cheap?" Harry offered. I gave him a sarcastic smile. Gee, thanks, Harry, that really boosted my morale. "Trust me, mate, she'll love it! She's not going to think any less of you."

"Yeah, well, if she puts on a fake smile when she sees this, I'll have you to blame." We headed down stairs and put on our snow gear before going outside for a little snowball fight with the twins and Ginny. Hermione would have joined us, but apparently reading up on ancient artefacts was more interesting then a little recreation.

By the time we all came in, we were soaked to the bone. And it wasn't even from the snowball fight either! Halfway into our game, Ginny launched a giant, magic-driven snowball at Harry and when he tried to dodge it, he fell backwards into the half-frozen lake. When Ginny went to see if Harry was alright, he popped out and pulled her in too. Then of course, Fred and George just _had_ to throw me in as well. To get them back, I launched a tidal wave at them. Needless to say, I think we're all going to need a hot bath and some cocoa to warm us up.

"For heaven's sake, look at you all!" mum shrieked when she saw us. We grinned sheepishly. "You're lucky if you all don't catch pneumonia! Go get dressed, hurry now! I'll have some basins ready to soak your feet in and some nice hot chocolate for you to drink." She shooed us away. I nudged Harry, smirking at our good fortune. I was expecting an ear-full of nagging, not a mug-full of hot chocolate.

As I passed by the living room, I spotted Hermione curled up on the couch, a book in one hand and a purring Crookshanks' under the other. God, if only I had a camera, I'd snap this perfect moment and add it to the biography. This was the epitome of Hermione's character! A bookworm with a soft spot for animals and other helpless creatures (well, I'd _hardly_ call Crookshanks helpless). I thought to myself, this would be the end all be all of photos I could take, and damn it all to hell, I had no bloody camera!

"Mum!" I called, backtracking into Fred by accident. "Mum, where's our camera?" I asked my mother discreetly while she stirred her pot of gravy.

"Oh that old thing? It's out of film, dear, your father just took it in to get developed. He wants a full roll ready for tonight." Tonight? But that would be too late! Hermione would most definitely have moved by then. "What did you need it for?" Only to capture the most perfect moment of the girl I fancy.

"Nothing."

"Well then, hurry up and get changed out of your wet clothes before you get a cold and die!"

Well that was a bust. As I walked by the living room again, Hermione looked up at me and our eyes connected for a moment. I smiled foolishly. She blushed and looked away. God, I'm such a git. I somehow always manage to make her feel embarrassed these days, I just can't figure out why.

Once I got out of my soppy clothes and was back on the main level, mum bombarded me with a warm mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows in it. The whole lot of us sat around the fireplace with our feet in small tubs of hot water, talking about everything and nothing. Fred and George were going on about their latest inventions and money-making schemes, Ginny was telling us how boring Hogwarts was without us (and how furious McGonagull was that we had dropped out), and we, the trio, were regaling them with stories of heroism and adventure. Actually, more like _I_ was doing the regaling, and many of the stories I was telling were exaggerated quite a bit. Just a month ago, we had a run-in with a couple Death Eaters. Hermione had managed to stun them before they had a chance to alert anyone else. However, that's not how I told the story. I said they got the word out and there were half a dozen of them, each uglier than the last, wands pointed at us. We were done for! Then I performed a complicated bit of magic and knocked them all out. Of course, no one believed me, and Hermione scolded me for lying. Can't blame a guy for trying.

By suppertime, dad was home from the Ministry looking harassed. Apparently they were having a hard time telling the spies from the real employees. Inquiries were being sent out by the dozens, citizens' homes being searched on a daily basis. Dad launched into a rather nasty tale of how one employee had commit suicide to prevent from being discovered as one of You-Know-Who's minions. Mum quickly put a stop to that discussion, telling dad to not bring up such business so close to Christmas.

Charlie, Bill, and Fleur were in for supper as well, bringing their own set of upsetting (for mum, anyway) stories to tell. At one point, mum demanded silence and refused to let anyone bring up the subject of the war. There was an awkward quiet afterwards that was broken by the sound of Pig twittering insanely up in the attic. I made the excuse of going to feed Pig while Harry made the excuse of 'assisting' me somehow and we both retreated from the somewhat uncomfortable scene.

While walking up the stairs, Harry cleared his throat. "So I take it your mum's still worried then?"

"Is there ever a time when she isn't?" I replied smoothly. Harry shrugged, which I noticed he did a lot when he was in a situation in which he was at a loss

"At least we're all here… except Percy, of course."

"I wish to god someone would let me slug the smarmy twit. Just once!" We both chuckled at the thought. While we were up in my room feeding Pig, I took this opportunity to grab the surprise gift and tucked it under my shirt for secret transportation to the Christmas tree.

By the time we thought it was safe to return to the main level, supper was just about ready and everyone was sitting down at the table. I quietly deposited the gold-wrapped present under the tree and took my place at the table. Since space was always limited, Ginny, Hermione, Harry and I had to sit at 'the little kids' table', as George had dubbed it.

Supper was a bit of a blur for me. I was having difficulty keeping my stomach settled because of the butterfly feeling in the pit of it. I was nervous about giving Hermione her gift. So many 'what-ifs' were floating in my head. What if it meant nothing to her? What if it said too much and she guessed my feelings, then laughed at me because she doesn't feel the same? What if she pretends to like it, but chucks it the first moment she gets? What if—

"You going to finish that?" Ginny interrupted my train of thoughts.

"Wah?" I asked, disoriented for a moment.

"Your pudding, Ronald! Are you going to finish it?" Ginny asked again, this time with less patience.

"No, take it."

"Cheers!" She grabbed my bowl of pudding. I blinked. Were we on dessert already?

"Ron?" said another voice, floating from beside me. I slowly turned my head and saw Hermione's concerned eyes. "Are you alright? You look a little… off."

"I'm fine," I muttered. Looking into her chocolaty eyes was not helping my nervous situation. Oh Merlin, I hope she can't read minds.

"Are you sure? You haven't eaten very much…"

"I'm not too hungry… I'll eat more after…"

"After what?" Her eyes were so penetrating. I felt like if I stared long enough, I'd be able to see her soul… either that or she'd get creeped out and never look at me again. I'd rather not take my chances. I broke our eye contact. She seemed somehow…saddened by the loss. Before she could inquire, my dad stood and tapped his wine glass with his fork.

"Can I get everyone's attention?" There was a hush. "It's so good to have all the Weasleys here—" Fred snorted and made a coughing noise that sounded like Percy. "—as well as Hermione and Harry, and our newest Weasley addition, Fleur—" Fleur beamed at being singled out and she seemed to sit a little straighter in her chair, smirking at everyone. "—I couldn't have asked for a happier day! But I want you all to know, no matter where in the world you are, you're all still family and you're all still loved. Never forget that." Mum made a squeak noise, dabbing her eyes with her napkin. Dad raised his glass and we all followed suit. "To family!"

"To family!" we murmured in unison before taking a sip of our respective drinks.

Once plates had been cleared, we all shuffled into the living room. The anxious feeling increased ten fold. I was suddenly thankful that I hadn't eaten much, otherwise I would have been sick. Mum began passing out gifts as she grabbed them from under the tree. I saw mine to Hermione buried deep near the back. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was dimly aware of what everyone else was getting. A green jumper for Harry, a Muggle toaster for dad, a spice rack for mum, Quidditch arm bracers for Ginny, the presents kept coming. Oh lovely, Fred and George got me something green and lumpy. A sky blue jumper for Fleur, a fireproof cape for Charlie, a belt with pyramid studs for Bill. The tension was killing me. When was my gift going to get to Hermione's hands? Oh wow, Hermione got a dark purple jumper with an 'H' on it from mum. That's new. Was that a cane from Ginny to Fred and George? Oh, there's my usual maroon jumper, complete with an 'R' on it. Thanks mum.

When there were only two gifts left, mum read who they were for and looked up at me with her eyes twinkling.

"Alright, boys, no more for you," she announced to everyone but Hermione and I. "Take your gifts to the other room." She shooed away all my brothers and everyone so it was just me and the girl I was deathly afraid to be alone with. I could have sworn that mum winked at me before leaving. Hermione shifted nervously.

"So I guess those are for us?" she asked, nodding her head towards the last two. One was the gold-wrapped gift, and the other was a long rectangular box. Hermione leaned forward and picked up the second box, placing it carefully on my lap. "Open mine first!" There was excitement in her voice, I could hear it. It was contagious too, because suddenly I was excited as well. I ripped through the red wrapping and opened the packaging. My eyes lit up at what I saw.

For a second, I thought my heart stopped. Then I thought I was dreaming. Lying in a box on my lap was a Firebolt 2000, the fastest model to date, even faster than Harry's broom. The smooth handle of the broom shone in the semi-dark room. Each bristle on the end of the broom were neatly groomed together, not a twig out of place. When thoughts finally started registering, the first thought that fought its way to the surface was: This must've cost a fortune!

"Do you like it?" Hermione asked, her voice sounding desperate for an answer. I looked at her. She had a very nervous smile on.

"Good god, do I ever! I love it!" I couldn't help throwing myself on her, giving her a huge hug. She laughed with relief, squeezing me back.

"I was worried you'd think it was weird of me to buy this for you, since you're not on a Quidditch team anymore."

"No, it's wicked! I can't tell how much this means!"

"I'm so glad you like it! I've been saving up for this since your birthday this year." Suddenly, my heart started to race. And it wasn't for some sappy romantic reason either. Hermione had saved up so much money! She had been saving _since my birthday_! That's how far ahead she had planned this! She spent a fortune on me. On _me_! I hardly felt worth it! And I was about to give her a crappy, cheap book full of stupid photos.

Hermione pulled away and looked at me, her face positively glowing with happiness. Her eyes darted to the last gift under the tree, then back to my face. I'm sure I must've turned green, because her expression changed from one of happiness to one of concern.

"Are you alright?" she asked for the second time this night. I swallowed slowly, my eyes darting to the piss-poor excuse for a present.

"I'm fine," I replied firmly. "Uh, I just remembered…I left your… uh, gift, in my… my room!" Her eyes made a quick movement from my face to the tree and back to my face. "I'll be right back!" She seemed like she wanted to protest but held her tongue and let me rush off to the staircase.

Bloody hell, what kind of mess did I get myself into? What could I possibly get Hermione that would equal half of what she gave me? For Merlin's sake, a Firebolt! The fastest, most expensive broom on the market! How could I top that? There was no way now I was giving her that book. She'd definitely laugh at me then!

I was in the middle of tearing my room apart, looking for something semi-expensive to give to Hermione, when there was a knock at the door.

"I'm busy!" I called, turning a drawer upside down and emptying the contents all over the floor. The door opened anyway. "Hey!" I turned, expecting to see Hermione checking up on me, but instead, it was just Harry. "Oh, it's only you."

"Only me?" Harry whimpered, putting on an act. "I'm hurt." I rolled my eyes and turned back to my dresser while Harry surveyed the damage. "Redecorating?"

"No…" I muttered impatiently, examining a golden candleholder, and then discarding it after assessing it unworthy. "I'm looking for a gift." Maybe mum had a few necklaces lying around. Something pricey, like pearls. Yeah… pearls…

"For who?" Harry asked, kicking over some clothes.

"For Hermione." I laid a string of shells out and attempted to transfigure them into a pearl necklace. The shells became spherical shells. "Damn…" I kicked the shells away.

"I thought you already got Hermione a gift. Need I remind you? It's a book, about yey-big, green cover, got her name on it, you can't miss it."

"I can't give her that!" I snatched up the discarded golden candleholder and made another attempt at transfiguring it into a gold necklace. The holder drooped over and melted. "Did you see what she got me? It was the latest Firebolt, Harry! It makes _your_ broom look like a Cleansweep!"

"So?"

"So! So I can't give her that silly ol' book! She'll think I'm cheap for sure! She must've spent over a thousand Galleons on that thing and all she's getting in return is sloppily put-together book full of photos of herself. If she wanted to see herself, Harry, she'd probably just look in a mirror."

"I think she'll love it."

"She won't. She'll just wonder why I'm so poor I can't buy her a decent gift."

"Ron, you don't have to spend money to make her happy."

"God, I can't imagine what I could get her that could top her gift to me! I feel so worthless!" Harry's words weren't sinking in very well.

"Ron, trust me, mate, just give her the book. I'm sure she'd rather have something made by you than something made in a cold factory somewhere." It was like he was across a field, talking in a muffled voice.

"Do you think I could get a necklace from mum? You think she'll give me one to give Hermione?" In one ear, out the other, that's what was happening to Harry's words.

"JUST GIVE HER THE GODDAMN BOOK!" Harry shrieked, his voice cracking slightly. That got my attention. Harry waited a few seconds, I guess to make sure I was really listening this time. "Will you trust me for five seconds? Hermione is going to _love_ it! I'm quite sure she'd rather get your hand-lovingly-made present then some generic gift that dozens of women would get. _Trust me_!" Harry was looking me in the eye when he said that last part, and for some reason, I listened. I believed and trusted him. And I smiled.

"Thanks mate."

"Anytime." He cuffed me over the shoulder and pushed me towards the door. "She's waiting." I gave Harry a determined smile and rushed out the door and down the stairs. Thank god I had friends like him to keep me levelheaded.

When I walked into the living room, Hermione was still there, sitting with her hands in her lap. Her head shot up when she heard me enter.

"Hi!" I greeted, my voice sounding unnaturally high for a moment. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Sorry about the wait… I just remembered that I left the gift here!" I bent down and picked up the loosely wrapped book and put it in Hermione's arms. "I hope you like it…" Anxiety was striking again. Hermione slowly and carefully undid the bow and removed the cloth from the book. And here it was. The moment of truth.

I studied her reaction carefully. It was as if everything was in slow motion. First there was confusion, at which my heart quickened and dropped to my feet.

She hated it.

Then there was recognition on her face as she read the book's title. My heart thumped loudly from the floor.

There was hope.

Then her face went blank as she turned to the first page. Her cheeks went red. The first picture in the book was of her when she was first born. The enchanted photo showed a newborn, silently screaming and crying, then calming down as she was passed off to her mother, Mrs. Granger.

She hated it.

She slowly, agonizingly flipped through each page, taking her time to read each caption and important date I had left. There was her first birthday, where she didn't understand what was going on, but thoroughly enjoyed the cake, smearing it all over her face. The memory of that particular photo made me smile. I heard her cough, covering up a giggle.

She liked it?

There was her first day of Hogwarts, standing in front of the Hogwarts Express, proudly showing off her wand and books. She had such an air of superiority, even then. She sighed, probably reliving the moment in her head.

The hope got stronger.

Page by page, her reaction changed subtly, yet there continued to be an overall blank expression, hard to read, hard to tell whether she was actually enjoying the book, or entranced by it and unable to stop herself from putting down the horrendous thing.

At the end, she closed the book, staring at the back of it for many silent seconds. And then I heard something that made my heart slip through the floorboards and into the ground, making me wish I could join it and let the world swallow me up.

She started sobbing. First there was a sniff. It was a sharp noise, like a hiccup, followed by a gasp for air and a shivering throaty sound, like a whine. I saw her bottom lip tremble as her hands quickly raced to cover it up. A tear escaped and landed on the book with a dull 'tuh' thud.

She hated it.

Before she could stop herself, she let out a loud sob and both hands covered her mouth and nose as she started breathing deeply. Dammit, Harry, this is all your fault! I knew I should have gone with the necklace!

"I'm sorry!" I cried, dropping down in front of Hermione, holding her shoulders gently. "I didn't mean for you to…" Her sobbing got worse. "Please don't cry!" I'm terrible when she cries like this. I have no idea what to do! "I'll get you something better! Just wait a moment, I can find a nicer gift and--"

"No!" Hermione shouted through her tears. I froze. "It's… it's alright!" She struggled to get her breathing under control. "I'm alright, I just…" She took a deep, shuddering breath and continued. "I wasn't expecting such a…" Dud? "Such a wonderful gift!" Well that's not what I was expecting.

"You mean… you don't hate it?" I asked cautiously. Hermione coughed as though she were about to burst out laughing.

"Of course not! I love it!" Somewhere beneath the floorboards, my heart was attempting a revival.

She loves it.

I released a big breath. "Oh… oh god, I thought you hated it!" I exclaimed, putting a hand to my forehead. "I thought you were crying because of how bad it was…"

"No, these are happy tears!" Hermione explained, wiping her cheeks. "I'm so happy! Ron, this is the best gift I've ever gotten! No one's ever spent so much effort on me like this before! This must've taken so much time to do!" So there's a direct correlation between effort and money. The more effort you put into something, the less money you have to spend. Interesting…

"So… just so we're clear, you like it?" Hermione nodded rapidly. Relief washed over me. "That's… that's good!"

"Thank you so much!" She gave me a huge hug, then a kiss on my cheek. My cheek felt warm from where her lips had touched. She pulled away to look me in the eye. "You must've put your heart and soul into this…" It wasn't a question, she was stating a fact. Nothing goes over Hermione Granger's head. I nodded. "You… must've made this special… for me…" I nodded again, not sure where she was going wit this. "You made this… with love?" I paused, looking deeply into Hermione's eyes. I nodded slowly. "You…" She swallowed nervously. "…love me?" My heart, which had found its way back into my ribcage, was thumping wildly. Just nod, man, nod! Tell her! Do it before the moment passes! Don't leave her hanging!

I nodded.

She smiled.

She kissed me. I felt trumpets go off in my head. Hermione Granger was kissing me, Ronald Weasley.

Damn, this is turning out to be the best Christmas ever.

So all was well with the world. I got my beautiful Firebolt and beautiful Hermione; she got her lovingly made photo album and loved it and me.

Sometimes the best gifts really do come straight from the heart. I'll never take these jumpers for granted ever again.

The End


End file.
